‘In other words, a sandbag. A blow to the back of the neck would do the needful without leaving any marks on the body.’

For a while, all of us were silent. Then Bijoy looked up with a haggard expression and asked, ‘But who …? Why …?’

Byomkesh understood the import of his question and shook his head. ‘That is something I don’t know yet. Something else has been puzzling me. Mrs Sen must have been in the next room between ten and eleven that night—didn’t she hear a thing?’

Almost unconsciously, Bijoy got to his feet and said brokenly, ‘Kakima! No, oh no, she doesn’t know anything! She must have been asleep …’

He realized suddenly that we were staring at him in surprise and sat down again.

Byomkesh said, ‘Anyway, let’s drop the subject for the time being. In due course, all our questions will be answered. Right now, do tell me one thing—who is the beneficiary in Nishanathbabu’s will?’

Bijoy replied in a harried tone, ‘Kakima and I—equal shares.’

Byomkesh and Barat exchanged glances, and Barat stood up to leave. ‘Let’s be off today,’ he suggested. ‘Bijoybabu still has a busy day ahead; the last rites …’

We rose to our feet. ‘We’ll come over to the farm later in the day,’ Byomkesh announced. ‘By the way, any news of Rashik De?’

‘I have put my men on to it,’ Barat replied. ‘No news so far.’

‘Brojodas Guruji hasn’t come back, has he?’ Byomkesh asked Bijoy.

The latter shook his head.

Byomkesh said, ‘Inspector Barat, you need to add one more customer to your list now. Please look out for Brojodas as well.’

Barat made a note of it and asked, ‘When you’re coming that way, would you drop in at the police station once?’

‘Yes, certainly.’

After they had left, Byomkesh sat in his chair for nearly half an hour, lost to the world. I finished smoking two cigarettes, one after the other. Then, unable to bear the torture of prolonged silence, I asked, ‘What did you think of Bijoy? Is he faking his emotions?’

Byomkesh looked up and replied, ‘If that is faking, there isn’t a better actor in Bengal.’

‘So he really has been hit hard by his uncle’s death. He seems to care a great deal about his aunt as well.’

‘Hmm. And that is why he is afraid.’

A few minutes later, I asked again, ‘Tell me, is there any link between the delivery of motor parts and Nishanathbabu’s death?’

‘There might be one or there might not.’

‘But Lal Singh died two years ago. So who was sending the motor parts to Nishanathbabu?’

‘I don’t know. But do remember, there is no proof that those motor parts were intended for Nishanathbabu. He thought so himself, but it could well have been otherwise.’

‘Then whom were they meant for?’

Byomkesh did not reply. I waited for a couple of minutes and when I realized he would not oblige me with an answer,